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Amensol's Focus: A Light In Dark Places (Pt. 2)

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    February 2, 2021 7:47 PM PST

    Amensol’s Focus

    Chapter Two: Light in Dark Places

     

         E’mani Karos knelt in the small cave to the south of the mighty city of Thronefast.  His hands were cold and damp, and he had nothing that was dry enough to wipe them.  He tried to control their shaking as he dug around for a rock with enough size to strike against his blade.  He had spent only a few moments on his way to his hiding place to search for small dried brush to start a fire.  He had grabbed two handfuls of dead leaves and grass, but the dripping from his clothes and hands had dampened them.  He found a very hard stone about the size of an apple up against the wall of the small cave and immediately retrieve his knife from his side.  His shivering body made it hard to hold the knife on top of the nest he had made, but he finally wrestled it in place and, after two or three strikes, a tiny ember landed on a dry patch and he was able to coax it into a small flame.

         The very small fire was barely enough to warm something within arm’s reach, so E’mani stripped of his wet clothes, wrung them out as best he could and laid them in a circle around the fire, leaving a spot for himself.  He could not risk a larger fire while the Thronefastian guards hunted him.  He was sure none of them knew why they pursued him, only the Queen demanded it.  His queen.  His burning anger brought him warmth the fire could not.

     

         Luc Demith, High Priest of Ocirico, leisurely ambled about Queen Amenthiel’s chamber.  Her Highness sat at the desk in the room with her head buried in her hands.

         “I knew this was a bad idea,” she exclaimed through her fingers.  “You swore there was nothing of interest going on down there.  You swore!”

         “My Queen, you mustn’t make too much of this situation.  Your uncle’s continuation of the program was after a noble goal, a goal that must be obtained before the men, women, and children of Thronefast can know peace.  We have that chance in your lifetime.  It is worth the risk.”

         Amenthiel’s head shot up in shock.  She twisted around, launching from her chair.

         “Peace?,” Amenthiel yelled at the handsome middle-aged man.  He was a good 10 years older than her modest 35, but she had no reservations rebuking him.  “You talk to me about peace with what is going on down there?  You have upset the status quo in ways we can not measure!”

         “My Queen, your uncle thought it best for the…”

    Amenthiel cut him off, “Do not DARE… speak to me about my uncle.  I am not my uncle.  I do not have his ambitions or his stupidity!”

         A knock came to the chamber’s door, interrupting the rant.  Luc beckoned them to come in, knowing it had to be a field report.

         “My Queen.  Justice Demith.  Scouts from all eight parties have checked in.  There is no sign of him yet.  They have covered from the city walls to the outskirts of the local groves and halfway to the Pass.  Should the continue the search? I have the scouts standing by for orders.”

         Amenthiel found her seat again and placed her head back in her hands.  There was a long pause then a muffled voice through fingers again.

         “Double the search. Double it. And have the King’s Guard send out everyone in plain clothes and stationed in every dark corner to catch a glimpse in case he double-backed into the city.  He doesn’t want to be found and he knows how not to be.”

         The guard looked over at Luc. Luc nodded without speaking and waved the guard away affirmatively, and the guard ran out the door speaking orders to his subordinates waiting outside as it was closed behind him.

         “What a mess you have left me, Luc,” Amenthiel said. “I had one simple question and you lied to my face.”

         “Look, I have only looked out for your best interest,” Luc replied.  “There are sometimes unscrupulous actions that must be taken to meet the enemy where they are.  Things are grayer than they seem sitting in the Forum, meeting out justice to lawbreakers.  But that is why we need you, someone who can stand beyond the gray area, a beacon of light for the citizens, untainted. And I tried to protect you from these stains on our hands.  But the work must continue, you know it must.  We still do not have what we are looking for.”

         “I thought, four months ago when I lost my uncle and my husband in one day, that it may be the worst day my life will ever see.”  She stood again and walked to within inches of the priest, staring into his eyes. “You are giving me a reason to doubt myself.” Even in Luc’s stone-faced determination, he was charming, and it gave her pause for a moment, standing this close to him, before she caught herself.

         “To lead these people to a more proseperous and safer future, I have to build a relationship with them; trust needs to be established and I have to show an unwavering commitment to them at all times.  Now, I have to condemn a hero of the people, squelch potential rumors of misdeeds by the Throne, and stop any mention of this from returning to our allies or enemies.  In your great wisdom, Justice Demith, how do you suppose I do all that?”

         “My Queen,” Luc said as pleasantly as he could, “we only need to find him, and just in case, make ever so slight contingency plans so we can prove any rumors false.  I head the Forum of Ocirico. I am the law.  We have everything in place to keep the necessary work of the military  secret from the public at large.  And, after all, he’s just one man.”

         Amenthiel brought her hand up in an instant, slapping Luc across is left cheek before he could react.  It staggered him, and for a moment, wiped the smug look off his face.  Amenthiel wanted to smile at that victory, but refrained.

         “One man can topple an empire, you fool.  And one woman can raise it up.  All of you aristocrats have become lazy and spoiled in your fine linens and your meetings and your money off the people’s backs.  This is going to change under my leadership.  The ruling class will get back to what our society was when Avendyr was king, with the rulers serving duty and sacrifice for the good of the people, not the other way around.  That is the only way to realize the goal of my grandfather, to grow our influence and prosperity to the farthest reaches of Terminus. For the good of our people.  In the meantime, find… E’mani.  And erase any evidence in that dungeon you’ve been working in.”  Amenthiel turned and walked toward the door.  “You can use the cellars in the Silent Sanctum if you need to continue your operation, but if anyone else finds out, you will be held accountable in the most public way I can imagine.”

         “You are truly inspirational, My Queen,” Luc said as she passed through the door.  Passing her on the way out, a priest of Ocirico named Falto headed in to speak with Luc.

         “Your Justice,” Falto said, looking over his shoulder as the door shut, “what is the news?  What are your orders?”

         “My dead Falto, I believe we have just been given permission to extend our operation.  Bring everything to the Sanctum, and everyone.”

         Luc smiled and rubbed his face, thinking of all the possibilities with his new single queen on the throne. This opportunity could not go to waste.

     

     

         Kador picked up a handful of dried grass, making his way to the cavern’s etrance.  It was a small cave, but plenty deep enough to mask a fire and their presence there.  He wasn’t sure that the orc female would even be here, or even if he wanted to find her here. 

         There were so many answers he wanted, but could he actually get them?  She could fight very well and she was possibly as strong as Kador.  Would she attack him now?  Could he reason with an orc? He wasn’t sure how competent they were. He knew of no one who had ever spoken to an orc. The common view was they were stupid brutes incapable of rational thought, basically clothed animals barely able to survive their own ferocity. 

         He stopped at the small cleft in the crevace that seemed to lead a little deeper.  He paused to listen.  It was silent.  In all that he had been taught, it did not match up with this creature. She was conniving, weighing risks in battle and in relations.  She killed the guards but spared him.  Clearly, there was more to her than he had expected.  He had mistaken her at the beginning as a human.  Even her face did not seem as grotesque as he had imagined.

         He slipped into the entrance, making very little sound.  If there was anything he had been taught, it was how to tread carefully.  When he was young, his mother taught him how to move in the shadows, to be inconspicuous.  When he was forced to move to the country with the old man, he was constantly trying to sneak away from the house to go on adventures at the nearby village.  As good as he was, the old man was still somehow able to catch him more often than not.  Kador had learned recently from his father that the old man was actually a retired advisor, high cleric, and battle planner for King Amensol and King Avendyr; an unfair advantage, he supposed.  But it had made him sharper.

         He moved through the small tunnel at a decent pace, considering it was nearly pitch black.  He stopped to listen again.  This time, he heard faint breath echoing in the darkness; it was coming from farther down.  He rolled his feet, heel-toe heel-toe, on down the tunnel.  He concentrated on his weight being centered between his feet.  Shoes slipping over loose gravel and dirt is what made noise.  The trick was to make your feet stick to where they were placed. He froze again to listen.  It sounded like it was against the wall two spans from him, pointed away from him.  Should he speak, should he grab her just in case?  Should he kill her now?  Kador was conflicted facing this new situation.  Instinctively, his body reached out his hand to find the shoulder of the other in the cave with him. It touched a very hard shoulder with a very soft leather, but only for an instant.

         The orc swiftly returned the contact, grabbing Kador’s hand in hers and twisting his arm incredibly hard.  Anyone else may have broken their arm, but Kador had learned to grapple better than any of the adults he watched train unarmed in Thronefast.  Kador ducked under his arm as he spun and grabbed the front hem of her cload.  He brought it up and wrapped her outstretched arm in the leather, then grabbed her hand and twisted it back toward her armpit.  She grunted, but kept it muffled, still fearing the arrival of guards.

         Kador folded her arm up behind her, coming close to her side.  She fought his hold be in this situation, there was nearly no one who could escape his hold.

         “I’m not here to hurt you,” Kador said, firmly but as quiet as he suspected she could hear.  “But, I’m not here to get hurt either. So, if you want me to let go, don’t attack me.”

         There was silence for another moment.  She was not struggling in the hold, but Kador kept pressure on just in case.

         “I no fight,” replied the gravelly voice in the darkness.

         Kador’s grip loosened inch by inch, judging whether it was the truth.  Eventually, he let go altogether, and he heard her scamper over to the opposite wall.  Silence filled the cave, each waiting for the other’s reaction.

         “So… do you know my words,” Kador asked, trying to break the tension.

         The orc hesitated for a moment, then finally answered in a thick accent, “I know yoor vwoords. Ant I can say dem back.”

         Kador grunted an acknowledgment of her abilities.  Then the room fell silent again.

         “Strvyetkrak goor,” the orc said finally. And the room fell silent again as Kador tried to figure out what he was supposed to do.  It didn’t sound like a question, but he felt foolish sitting in the dark saying nothing back.

         “Um,” Kador tried a reply, “I – I don’t know what you’re say-“

         “I say,” the orc cut him off, obviously getting the hint, “you know my vwoords.  You no know dem.”

         “Uh, right. You’re right. I do not speak orc,” Kador said. “If it makes you feel better, I can’t speak elvish either, hehe.”  There was no laughter in reply.  He wondered how much she understood.

         “I know small Elf.  Ant small Gaastru.  Eh.  You say Goba, Gooba, ehh…”     

         “Goblin?” Kador chimed in.

         “Maa.  Goblin,” she answered. “Small Goblin.

         Kador acknowledged with another grunt.  This orc was making him feel stupid.  An orc making him feel stupid.  She was speaking two languages to him and he was replying with primal guttural sounds.  This was not how he pictured this day going.

         She intrigued him though.  How dis she know all this?  He was taught that orcs were brutish, dim-witted, lesser creatures.  And there was something about the way she looked that was… he couldn’t put his finger on it.  She wasn’t horrifyingly ugly like orcs were portrayed.  He had seen sketches and posters, and a few dead orcs, but that was his extent of their knowledge.  His home with the old man on the farm was in the plains, far away from the orcs of North Tusk  near the city of Thronefast. He had ran into other races in some nearby towns, but they had been few and far between.  Years after the wars, there was much rebuilding, and there were few that traveled from their homelands.  Thronefast had master craftsmen from different trades, but these were mostly their closest allies, Elves and Dwarves.  He had seen a ratkin once coming through town, selling whatever trash it had scavenged from old battlefields or empty cabins.  It was fun as a child seeing that, but he had never thought about conversing with any of them.  He was a human, and there was nothing outside of his own that he had ever wanted.  But this orc was fascinating for reasons he couldn’t explain.

         “I think it’s okay to make a fire.  We are pretty far inside the cave,” Kador said, hoping she knew what he was saying.

         “Fiyoor is goot,” she replied.

         Kador took that as his sign.  He got out the grass he had picked earlier.  He had a piece of charred cloth he kept in a box just for circumstances like this.  He fumbled around in the darkness, getting the rock out and placing it over top of the grass in his hand.  He pulled out his knife and got it situated when he heard the sound of a rushing wind behind him.  The cave lit up a warm orange hue as the flames caressing the orcs hand stretched up.  She set her hand down on some sticks she had apparently brought with her into the cave.  She loosed her hand from them and the fire stayed, butning the wood.

         Kador stared at her with the grass and rocks in his hand.  She could fight and she could do magic.  It took years and years to master elementalist magic.  He had been around enough mages during his early years in Thronefast with his mother.  The military had a who division dedicated to the study of the arcane.  There was still much to be learned here on Terminus about what magic may lay waiting in this world, but he had never seen someone who was that adept at fighting and magic.

         “My way fasterr,” the orc commented, looking at Kador stand there with his elements.

         “Apparently,” he said back to her.  He shrugged and dropped the grass to the ground and put away his rock, knife, and charcoal.  He almost felt useless, sitting here in this cave as a female, he didn’t care what kind, threatened his manhood with her skills.  He wasn’t sure why he cared, but he did.

         “So… I am Kador. It just dawned on me that we haven’t been properly introduced.

         “Why you want know who I?”

         “Well, I just figured since we were talking, I…”

         “Yoor man do not want know when deh kill orc, and take from dem.”

         Kador paused.  He had never even considered how a conversation with an orc would go.  He never considered you could have a conversation with an orc. But, as politically charged as that statement from her was, he had done nothing to her.

         “I have never taken anything from you or your kind.  I helped you back there.  And you helped me.  So, why don’t you save your anger for someone else.”

         “You be in Troanfaast,” she said.  Kador picked up the question part.

         “When I was small. A boy”

         “So you take from me.  Vrona, mountains, land, my home. Not yoors. Man take when orrc go to deh fight, when grreat ones fight. Deh come back and man take my home. Deh make elf to fight and blue man to fight.”

         “Dwarves,” Kador said, listening to her tale.  She was saying things he had never heard before. “Blue men are called Dwarves.”

         “Dvwarves,” she continued.  “We no fight dem in Vrona before man take orrc home.  You be in my home, so you take my home. So you take.”

         She got silent and he could tell she was still upset, but he didn’t know why she was not trying to kill him if she felt he took her homeland.

         “Well, I don’t live there now.  I was born there but, like you, I did not choose where I was born. I guess I don’t live anywhere now.”  He poked at the fire for a second, both of them standing on separate sides of the cave, the fire separating them.  Neither was in a position to relax around the other.

         “What about you?” Kador asked.  “You are a long way from Orc villages.  You are carrying many things.  It doesn’t look like you live there either.”

         The female orc stared silently into the flames.  She looked uncomfortable at the question, a slight grimace growing on her face.

         “And you don’t act like an orc,” he continued. “At least, not that I’ve heard about.  I hear orc are vicious warriors. They do not spare their enemies.  If I am your enemy, why do you spare me?”

         She remained quiet but he could tell there was something she was hiding.  He thought about letting it go, but what then?  He wasn’t about to go back out and take his chances on search parties looking for her.  His house would now be in ruins and he was pretty sure he was labeled an enemy of the crown by now. If she was so knowledgeable about this region, maybe she could at least advise him on the task that was given to him by the Old One.

         “Oh, and you don’t even look like a decent orc, more like a big green elf with bad manners.  Maybe that’s why you’re here. Your mother threw you out for not being ugly enough.”

         In an instant, the orc rushed across the cave and had drawn her dagger and held it up to Kador’s neck.  He did nothing to protest.  He was goading her.

         “I am Kaa’ruk!  I am prophet of Ooshava the strong.  I am bless and curse by herr.  She make me powvwerful to kill you if I want.  You can no stop vwhat I do, even if I do to you!”

         “Ah,” Kador replied.  “So you do have a name. Karuk?”

         She backed her blade off of his neck, but still held it between them.

         “I am Kaa’ruk.  I am no called dis, Man Kadorr. You can not says my name: Valgrugthrinostek Baa’luvanooshava.”  Her eyes were locked on Kador, presenting herself as forcefully as she could.  She was formidable, Kador noted.  As much as he was hoping to get more information out of her, he was still on his guard, just in case.  He stared right back at her, unflinching at her intimidation.

         “My name is strong, not like man name.  Is mean ‘storm from Ooshava.’ I bring storm from Ooshava when I am alive.” She pointed her finger in Kador’s face as she spoke.  Her mannerisms gave away a sensitivity to her identity that Kador didn’t understand.  It was as if she was trying to convince herself as much as Kador.  She backed up from Kador, turned, and sat by the fire and stared into the small flames.

         Kador stood watching her for a moment, figuring out where to go from here.  He took off the coat he had grabbed while fleeing his home.  He only wore it for protection, and he would need something to rest his head on soon when he was sure it was safe.

         Kador went to the other side of the fire from the orc and laid down, trying to show as much confidence in his situation as he could.  He wasn’t sure if he could actually sleep this close to an orc, but he could pretend she did not make him feel uncomfortable.  He rolled up his coat and laid it on the damp cave floor, and laid down on his back by the fire.

         Kador glanced around the flames to the female orc sitting, staring into the fire.  Her cloak was off, laying under where she was sitting.  Her long hair was thick but not very coarse.  It was hanging off of both shoulders and nearly touched her knees.  There were ornate beads mingled in what appeared to be random braiding in her hair.   Her face was thinner looking than the orcs he had seen.  He had never seen a female orc, but her physique was more slender that the hulkish frames that he would normally envision.  Her fangs, as he had seen before, were much more subtle, barely breaking through her clenched lips.  Her arms and hands were closer to his size, which was larger than most men, but her arms seemed to be longer than his, even though she was about the same height as him. The fire caused light to dance off the iron and copper bangles she had on her arms. He tried not to look like he was staring, to avoid anymore confrontation.  He’d never been this close to an orc before, and his limited knowledge of the world around him was more obvious to him now.

         “Man feel cold,” she finally spoke up again. “Dey put on big skin in Vrona. Deh maksh…” she made her fingers wiggle as they descended from above her head to the cave floor.

         “Snow,” Kador replied.

         “Dey feel cold in deh maksh.  Orc no feel cold. Hanggore orc no feel cold.  Why you no feel cold,” she said.

         Kador rolled over to face her, resting on his elbow. “I don’t know if I have ever been cold.  I don’t feel hot, either.  I did not know why until my father told me why.”

         Kador stood up and walked around the fire and knelt beside her.

         “You see this here,” Kador asked, twisting his body around to show her the large scar on his shoulder.

         “Braiku,” the orc said as she leaned in to get a closer look. “I know dis.  Braiku from sky.  Dey make sounds look like dis.” She was  staring intently at his scar.

         “Dragons,” Kador replied.  “That’s what I am told.  I was cut as a child, too small to remember.  I was told that this is a protection from heat and cold.” He paused. “I guess I am like an orc like that. You seem to be not like orc.”

         She did not answer right away, looking lost in thought. Kador rolled back over onto his makeshift pillow.  He could feel the dampness from the floor wicking up into his clothing. It was not comfortable, but he’d slept in worse.

         “I…,” the orc began to speak, having trouble getting it out. “I come alive vwhen man come.”

         “So, when men came to your village? To attack?”

         “No… I come alive vwhen man come,” she made a fist and moved it through the air until it fell to the ground. “Vwhen dey come.”

         Kador was confused.  It seemed to him like she was saying she was born when men arrived on Terminus. But that didn’t make sense.  Men came to Terminus almost seventy years earlier, 67 actually.  It was a storm to hear the tales, but this orc did not appear old.  Did orc live that much longer than men? He didn’t think so.

         “You don’t mean when men came to here,” he swam his hands around, signifying the ground.

         “Yes when man come to Aevozul.”

         “That can’t be right.  That was like,” he was trying to communicate time, but he wasn’t sure how, “like, uh, 70, winters ago.”  He copied her gesture for snow.

         She looked down into the fire again. “Orrc no alive long time.  Dey kill at battle, dey kill at home.  Only Kaa’ruk alive long time.”

         “What is Karuk?”

         “Kaa’ruk, ehh, help Ooshava tell Orrc to fight, to do…”

         “Ah, so a leader. An orc leader.”

         “Kaa’ruk leader of all Hanggore.”

         Kador sat back up again.  This orc was the leader of Hanggore? Why would she be out here, chased through random houses by Thronefast military?

         “You are not leader of Hanggore,” Kador attempted to clear up the confusion.

         “No. I not leaderr of Hanggore.”

         Kador figured that couldn’t be right. He started to relax again.

         “I was leader,” she clarified.

         Kador lifted himself back up again.

         “Ooshava bless and curse me. I come alive when man come down,” she made the gesture again. “Ooshava bless me to be Kaa’ruk. I have fire, I have strong.  I know betterr dan dem.  Ooshava curse me.  Ooshava make me look more like man. Make me small. Make me ugly,” she motioned to her face.” Kaa’ruk say make me to know man, to help Orrc.  Ooshava make to protect Orrc from man.”

         So she is 67 years old, Kador thought to himself.  That was amazing.  He would guess she would be a young woman by man’s standards. And she did look different than other orc.  So, she was born during the Collision that brought men to Terminus, she is held up as a sign from their deity as she is more human looking than other orcs.  Why is she not in charge then?  Why have no men ever heard of Kaa’ruk or had dialogues with orc leaders?

         “Two Kaa’ruk fight overr who can be new Kaa’ruk leaderr, Oosharuk, leaderr for Hanggore, when I am ready.  One say Valgrugthrinostek, one say Konekavra.  One say kill man who take Vrona, who take land from Orrc while we fight away. One say I talk to man and make dem leave. One kill.  Now, Konekavra is Oosharuk. I must leave to not die.  I can not go back.  I leave forty winters.  Konekavra attack man. Man kill Orrc.  Ooshava let dis happen.  I watch. Ooshava curse me to watch forever.

         Kador was listening intently as she spoke.  She was supposed to be a liaison between the Orc and Man.  How many lives would be saved by that.  The orc had attacked every chance they had since he was alive.  They were told it was because they were violent.  A power struggle between two camps had just fallen the way of the more aggressive leader of Hanggore.  How different would life be if things had gone the other direction, he thought.

         Kador got up and put a few more small sticks on the fire, then laid back down in his spot.

         “I have a man who tells me to fix Man too.  He says I am to keep dragons, uh, Bracku, Braiku, away from Man.  Man will find their magic and kill more or something.  I don’t know.” Kador just let his mind wander over his issues.

         “I here by Ooshava to stop Man.  You here to stop Man.  Where is your Ooshava for man who tells you?” she asked.

         “He’s invisible,” Kador chuckled to himself. “You can’t see him.  I rub a rock and he appears.”  It wasn’t lost on Kador how ridiculous he sounded.

         “I vwant to see yourr man,” she replied.  “I can talk him about Ooshava.  He can get Ooshava help me go home.

         “You can’t see him; he’s invisible,” Kador couldn’t think of a way to relay that message to her.

         “I can see,” she said. “Ooshava bless me with fire and to know more.  I can see.”

         Kador was slightly aggravated that this orc thought she could talk to this time traveler of sorts that could only be seen by three people right now in their whole world.  He didn’t know why.  He felt like the uniqueness of his situation and the tasks asked of him were making him feel special, and he didn’t like it.  He did not want to buy into all this.  He didn’t want the hassle. 

         Settle down, Kador. Don’t be stupid

         Kador got up and went to get his bag he dropped against the wall. He returned with his hand down inside it, pulling out a dirty and worn piece of leather.  He set it down beside the orc.  He had thought of not showing her this since she was an orc, and he had no idea if he could trust her, but he figured since nobody could see the man anyway, it wouldn’t matter.

         He pulled the cover back to reveal the large gemstone.  The orc seemed unimpressed by its presence, which was not his reaction the first time he saw it.

         “So, I just touch this…” Kador slid his hand across it, “and the old man shows up and talks to me about saving the world. That’s pretty much how it works.”

         Smoke began to gather at the back of the cave.  They had not had any trouble with smoke in the cave until now.  It got thicker and Kador noticed the darkened form behind it.  He had not meant to summon the Old One, but he was coming nevertheless.

         The female orc stood up from her spot, and walked closer to the smoke. She took a burning stick from the fire with her hand.  It didn’t seem to burn her at all.  She placed it right in front of the smoke and knelt beside it and waited.

         “Hey,” Kador said, realizing she was seeing something.

         “Hey, can you see this?”

         The orc didn’t move, but just sat looking up as the smoke condensed down and a form of an old man appeared out of it.  She took out her blade and made a small cut on her hand, letting the blood drip down onto the burning stick in front of her.

         “Hey, you can see him,” Kador was still inquiring.  She was looking right into his face.

         The Old One looked down at the orc at his feet.

         “Oh, Kador, you brought her. Good, good,” the old man said.

         Kador looked surprised. How did the Old One know anything about this orc? He didn’t bring anyone.  How did he know they would be in this random cave together.  This was all a string of mishaps and rash decisions that led him here.

         The old man continued, “I was hoping you would make the right choice. I’ve needed to reach her. The more I have, the easier everything becomes. Good, very good. Now, it’s time for us to get to work.”


    This post was edited by Benonai at March 16, 2021 10:41 AM PDT